


The Way To A Stilinski's Heart is Through His Stomach

by painintheasgard



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:52:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painintheasgard/pseuds/painintheasgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles has to move in with Derek and Derek unintentionally steals a bit of his heart every time he cooks or brings him curly fries. (Smut eventually, of course.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this idea came from but it is basically everything I love rolled into one fic. Takes place a year after everyone has graduated.

STILES

Stiles didn’t know how he had wound up sharing an apartment just outside of Beacon Hills with Erica Reyes, or, even more astonishingly, how they’d actually become friends. In fact, if Scott wasn’t in the picture, she might have even gained the title “best friend”. As it was, she had the almost as awesome title of “best friend who is also a girl” and Stiles was adamant that this would be true even if he had more than one friend of the female variety. 

The friendship had come before they moved into an apartment together, of course. It was a good thing it did, too, because Stiles did not like the idea of having to live under the same roof as Scott and Isaac. There were worse than Scott and Allison had been, which was definitely saying something.

See, after Lydia, who Stiles had been pining after since the third grade, and her on-and-off boyfriend Jackson had gotten back together at the end of their second year of High School and it was apparent that they weren’t going to split up again any time soon, Stiles’ dreams were pretty much crushed. Erica had stepped in as a friend to help pick up the pieces and they just sort of developed this super awesome friendship.

Stiles was pretty sure that it was because she was actually a good person deep down, even though she’d dismantled part of his jeep, knocked him unconscious, and just been an all-around bitch for the first little while after she received the “Alpha Bite Makeover”, and that she didn’t want anyone to feel as miserable and alone as she had. It could also have something to do with the fact that, while she didn’t have a huge crush on Stiles any more, she still had a bit of a soft spot for him. 

He had a pretty good set up living with Erica. They traded off cooking and cleaning, as long as Stiles didn’t leave the toilet seat up, he didn’t have to worry about having his throat torn out, and every Saturday morning, they watched cartoons and played videogames in the Batman and Cat Woman pajamas that they had gotten each other for Christmas. Erica liked that she could watch a movie with a guy and not have to ignore the constant smell of arousal, and Stiles liked that Erica’s girly intuition made her much better to talk to about some things than Scott. 

Another great, and very important, thing was that their classes at the university just outside of Beacon Hills were staggered so that Stiles had quite a bit of “alone time”, which was something that he desperately needed, being single and all.

The werewolves of the pack (Stiles had somehow gained honorary status as a pack member, but he made up the human side of it) had decided on the university because they wanted to stay close to their Alpha. Stiles had no idea why, they guy was a dick. It was obviously some sort of werewolf thing that he couldn’t understand. Even if he was a pack member and even sort of friends (okay, maybe acquaintances is a better word) with Derek, he still thought the guy was an asshole. Stiles had decided to tag along because he wanted to stay close to his dad, and he couldn’t go off to some far away university when his only really good friends remained close to Beacon Hills.

The downfall to being part of the pack was that Stiles was expected to go on all sorts of pack bonding or training excursions. They might have been fun for the wolves, and sure, it meant he was actually sort of friends with Isaac and Boyd and even on speaking terms with Derek, but Stiles usually wound up bruised, battered, and exhausted because of his clumsiness and overall human-ness. The worst part was that every time Stiles tripped and fell or got hurt, Derek was right there helping him. He wasn’t sure whether the guy was actually concerned, he thought Stiles so weak that stumbling over a tree root and falling while they were on a hike was a major accident, or he secretly got a kick out rubbing Stiles human weakness in his face, but it was seriously fucking annoying. 

It was that weekend, the first of summer vacation, when Stiles had been looking forward to relaxing on the couch after a particularly stressful week full of exams , that Erica decided to spring some news on him that completely crushed all his hopes and dreams… Okay, maybe that’s pushing it a little bit, but still.

“Derek wants us at the Hale house at seven in the morning tomorrow.” She informed him, barely masking her own unhappiness with the situation.

Stiles groaned. “Why can’t the human just stay home for once? The human has barely slept from cramming for exams and wants to relax, not spend all day tripping and falling and being all human-y and frail.”

“Aww, Stiles, haven’t you heard that frailty is like super cute?” Erica teased.

“No it’s not! And I don’t know if I can put up with Derek and his constant fussing over me every time I get a little bump. Seriously, what is that guy’s problem?” Stiles asked, scowling.

Erica looked confused, but then rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. “Wow, you really have no clue, do you?” she asked.

“I mean, there was that one time that I twisted my ankle and everyone thought it was broken but it wasn’t actually so it’s really no big deal and, like, I don’t need a band-aid every time I get a little paper cut, yanno?” Stiles continued ranting until what Erica just said had registered. “Wait. Have no clue about what?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Erica said innocently, smiling. 

“Erica!” Stiles whined, dragging out the A at the end of her name. 

Erica ruffled his hair. She did that a lot. Probably because Stiles had let it grow out a bit since high school and he was confident that it was very ruffle-able. “Nope. Boyd and I have a bet and if I say anything about it, I won’t get my money.”

“Well that was not helpful at all, thank you Erica. Anyway, do you know what the plan is for tomorrow? Hiking? Running through the forest on all fours? Terrorizing the locals? Braiding each other’s tails?” Stiles asked. “That would be kind of difficult seeing as I don’t have a tail.” 

“I don’t either, idiot.” Erica said, rolling her eyes. She did that lot, too. Erica Reyes: Ultimate Sass Master. “He’s being very secretive about the whole thing.”

“Wow that’s so weird because the guy is never secretive about anything else ever.” Stiles muttered. 

Erica ignored his comment. “If the human is so tired, he’d better go to sleep. Early start tomorrow!” She sang cheerily. 

Stiles groaned again, but forced himself off the couch and shuffled off toward his room.

\--------------------------

The next morning when Stiles walked through the front door of the (newly rebuilt and refurnished) Hale house, he’d expected to find the hallway lined with all the gear they would need for whatever unpleasant and probably dangerous bonding activity Derek had planned for the day. The last thing he expected was the smell of bacon sizzling and soft voices and laughter drifting out of the kitchen area.  
He was dreaming. He was definitely dreaming. Derek did not host breakfasts. Could he even cook? Stiles always though he just kind of gnawed on raw steaks or some other Alpha-y thing.

When Stiles peeked around the corner into the kitchen, he saw Derek standing over the stove and somehow managing to flip pancakes, scramble eggs, and man the bacon all at the same time. The sleeves of his shirt were pushed up to his elbows (and wow, he sure had nice forearms) and he was wearing jeans and a plain white apron to shield his clothes from the bacon grease that was splattering out of the pan. 

Derek looked up from the stove and scowled at Stiles. “You’re late.” He said.

Stiles ignored him. “What’s all this?” he asked.

“It’s breakfast, Stiles.” Derek answered, as if Stiles hadn’t yet grasped that. 

“Thanks, dude, I’ve never actually seen breakfast before, that’s really helpful.” He rolled his eyes. “Can you even cook?” he wondered.

Derek looked unimpressed (though, that was kind of his default expression), and heaved an exasperated sigh. “What does it look like I’m doing right now?” he asked.

Isaac, who had been chopping fruit at the counter, turned around and grinned at Stiles. “He’s actually really good.” He told Stiles. Isaac had lived with Derek after his dad died until he and Scott had moved in together, so Stiles figured his word was as good as any.

Erica walked in from the dining room, where Scott and Boyd sat picking at the first fruit platter Isaac had brought in. “The table is set!” she told them. When she saw Stiles, she smirked. “Well, look who it is! Better late than never, Stiles.”

Stiles glared at her. “I was only late because _someone_ took eighteen million fucking years in the shower and there was no hot water left when I had to shower.”

Erica shrugged, not looking guilty at all. “Well if I don’t shower first, _you_ use up all the hot water.” 

Okay, so maybe that was true, but Stiles was still mad that he’d had to shower in freezing cold water. He turned to Derek. “So, do you need help with anything?” he asked. Sure, the guy wasn’t his favourite, but he was making breakfast for the whole pack and not offering to help would be rude. 

“Do you think you can manage to man the waffle iron?” Derek asked, smirking mockingly at him.

Yeah, sure, offer him help and he makes fun of you, thanks Derek. “Yeah, I think I can handle it, thanks.” Stiles wandered over to the other end of the kitchen to stand by the waffle iron, muttering about how he was actually a good cook and could definitely handle making a couple waffles.

When the food was ready, Erica yelled at Scott and Boyd to get their asses into the kitchen and carry all the food into the dining room, seeing as they hadn't helped with anything else. She had also assigned everyone a seat at the table. Scott and Isaac sat next to each other, Erica sat next to Boyd, and somehow, Stiles found himself stuck between Scott and Derek. Between this and Erica using up all the hot water, he was convinced that he had done something to piss her off.

By the time everyone was seated and all the food (there was seriously a lot of food, but feeding five werewolves and a Stiles kind of requires a lot of food) was on the table, it was a little crowded. There was a lot of elbow bumping and fighting over food. Scott even accidentally stabbed Boyd’s hand with his fork when he and Boyd raced each other to get the last waffle.

Derek growled at Scott to be careful, but Boyd assured him that he was fine, and held up his hand to show that it had already healed. 

“Yeah? And what if it had been Stiles?” Derek asked.

Scott was silent for a moment, but then he looked up at Stiles, grinning. “Well Stiles wouldn’t have beat me to the last waffle.” 

It was true, too. “So, Derek,” Stiles started, determined to change the topic to diffuse the tension, “What brought this whole idea on?” he asked, gesturing at all the food on the table.

Derek shrugged. “Broke, starving, college kids gotta eat too, right?”

Stiles figured that was as good a reason as any. 

“So, is there anything planned after this? ‘Cause Isaac and I were planning to catch a movie later.” Scott said.

Derek shook his head. “You can all leave after, if you want.”

Scott and Isaac exchanged looks of relief.

Stiles took the lull in conversation as a chance to try his first bit of one of the pancakes on his plate. “Holy shit, dude!” he exclaimed around his mouth full of food. “These are so fucking good. I didn’t even know you could cook!”

Derek looked slightly offended. “I lived on my own for years, Stiles, how do you think I got by?” he asked.

“I don’t even know, but seriously, I think we need to have pack breakfasts more often. Like every day, maybe. God, these are seriously so fucking good.” Stiles ranted as he shoved more food in his mouth. 

Stiles looked over at Derek and – whoa wait, was he actually smiling? Holy shit, he was actually sort of smiling. And wow, how had Stiles not noticed how attractive he was before? I mean, sure he’d noticed, it was kind of hard not to, but he’s never really _noticed ___. He stopped himself before his thoughts got too far. How embarrassing would it be if the five werewolves at the table started to hear his heart beat pick up and smelled arousal on him? That would be difficult and super awkward to explain. Good food did strange things to Stiles’ head. Being one hell of a cook didn't make Derek any less of an asshole.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erica and Stiles have to move out of their apartment for a week or two. Stiles winds up asking Derek Hale, the last person he would have thought of, for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo, posting almost on schedule! I'm only 20 minutes late.
> 
> There was a very tiny addition to the very end of the first chapter yesterday (Jan. 5th) so if you haven't read it, do so because it'll make a bit more sense. 
> 
> This chapter was shorter than I wanted it to be, but c'est la vie.

**DEREK**

Everyone left fairly quickly after they’d finished eating. Derek hadn’t expected them to stay, anyway. He knew they all had plans for their first day of vacation.

Erica stayed to help Derek out with the dishes. He was kind of thankful. Cooking for six people, werewolves or not, created a lot of dishes.

They did the dishes mostly in silence, until Erica walked by Derek to put something away and upon smelling her he observed, “You smell like Stiles.”

Erica laughed. “Well duh.” She turned to face Derek, smirking. “I kind of live with him.”

“Right, yeah I know.” Derek said. It was just an observation, so why was Erica looking at him like that.? Smirking like she knew something that he didn’t. 

After a couple more minutes of doing dishes in silence, Erica chuckled under her breath. 

“What?” Derek asked, scowling at her. 

“Oh, nothing.” Erica answered, smirk still plastered on her face.

“Erica.” Derek growled.

“You like him.” She sang.

Derek knit his eyebrows together in confusion. “What? Like who?” he asked.

“Stiles.” Erica answered. “I get why, he’s totally cute. Don’t worry about me, though, I haven’t had a crush on him since the ninth grade. I see him as cute in a totally friendly way. You should go for it.” 

“I- um- wha- you- he,” Derek tripped over his words until he managed one very confused, “ _What?_ ”

Erica dropped the towel she was drying dishes with and turned to face Derek. “Seriously, you two flirt _all_ the time, every time he gets a little bump, you practically kiss it better, and always with the eye-fucking.. You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife.” 

“Flirting?” Derek asked incredulously, “That’s not flirting, that’s me barely tolerating the kid because you all wanted him in the pack and, even if he annoys the hell out of me, he’s saved my life a couple times.”

Erica shrugged, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Derek.” 

Derek growled at her, a warning to just drop the subject. How could she even think Derek liked the kid? He barely tolerated him and she was saying that he _flirted_ with him and that there was _sexual tension_? Impossible. 

Erica put the last couple dishes away, gathered up her stuff, and walked to the front door. Derek followed her. He was going to thank her for helping with the dishes, even though she’d royally pissed him off, but as she was walking out the door she turned to say, “You know he’s legal now, right?”

Derek’s eyes flashed red and he snarled at her. 

She laughed as she closed the door, no sense of self-preservation at all. Or maybe she was just confident that Derek wouldn’t hurt her too much. 

 

**STILES**

 

Stiles was sitting on the curb outside of the apartment building with his head in his hands when Erica came back from Derek’s. He didn’t even notice her until she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Uhh, Stiles?” 

“Hmm?” Stiles asked, not looking up.

“Well, I think you trying to get more fresh air is really awesome, but I think you’re supposed to do more than sit on the curb.” Erica teased, trying to cheer him up, even though she had no clue what he was upset about.

“Not funny.” Stiles mumbled.

Erica sat down beside him, putting her arm around his shoulder. “Seriously, Stiles, what happened?” she asked

“You know the old woman who lives next door in 205?” Stiles asked.

“The one that bakes us cookies that we don’t eat all the time?” 

Stiles nodded, head still hanging low in his hands. “Yeah that one. She died.”

Erica nodded sadly. “She was sick, Stiles. I could smell it.” 

“She didn’t die from sickness, she drowned. Fell asleep in the bath tub, I guess. She died before she could turn off the water. It flooded her apartment and ours before anyone noticed.” Stiles said, finally looking up at Erica.

Erica’s eyes widened. “O-our apartment?” she asked. Stiles nodded. “How bad is the damage?” 

“It’s pretty bad.” Stiles sighed. “We’ve got to get rid of most of the furniture. Sucks. I loved that couch,” he pouted, “and they said we have to find somewhere else to stay while they re-do that flooring and fix the damage the water did to the walls.”

“Damn.” Erica muttered. “I’m gonna miss her disgusting cookies.”

Stiles nodded in agreement.

“Are you gonna call your dad and stay with him?” Erica inquired. 

Stiles shook his head. “Only as a last resort. He’s too far away and my Jeep is too unreliable. With the hours he works, there’s no guarantee I could get a ride to work if it broke down. I’ll probably bed Scott and Isaac to let me crash on their couch or something, as much as living with them horrifies me.” He ran his hands through his hair. “What are you gonna do, Erica?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I’m sure I can stay with Boyd. If that doesn’t work out, I’ll stay with my parents. Don’t worry about me. It’s you that should be worrying.” Erica remarked.

“Dude, I know.” Stiles groaned. Stiles considered ‘dude’ to be a gender neutral pronoun. 

“Why don’t you stay with Derek?” Erica suggested. “I mean, I know you two barely tolerate each other, but you’d be working most of the time and it’s a such a huge house, you’d probably never see him.”

Stiles thought about it. On the one hand, he wouldn’t have to live with Scott and Isaac, but he’d also owe Derek big time. Though, he had had a hand in saving the guy’s life a couple times… He supposed it was worth a shot. “Yeah, I guess I could ask him.” Stiles finally responded.

He stood up and brushed off the back of his jeans. “I’m gonna grab some of my crap and load it into the Jeep. Do you need me to grab any of your stuff or drop you off anywhere?” he offered.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ll just call my dad. Thanks, though.” She smiled 

Stiles turned around and ventured back into the apartment building. When he reached their apartment, he stood in the door and surveyed the damage again. The bedrooms had barely been touched by the water, thankfully. The worst of the damage was in the living room, which was the room that had been closest to the woman’s bathroom. The couch was completely wrecked. Dammit. He seriously loved that couch. 

 

**DEREK**

 

Derek was upstairs transferring files from Peter’s laptop to the one that Derek had bought recently, though rather begrudgingly, when he heard the rumble of Stiles’ piece of crap Jeep making its way up his driveway.

“Fuck.” He muttered. What the hell did the kid want? Okay, so he wasn’t really a kid any more, as Erica had been so kind to point out, but he’d always called him that and he always would.

He made his way downstairs and stood at the door, waiting for Stiles to knock. 

After he did, Derek opened the door, fixing Stiles with his most intimidating glare. The yelp of surprise that came from Stiles was exactly what he had been aiming for. He tried to keep the smirk off of his face but failed entirely.

“Wow, rude.” Stiles grumbled.

The fact that Stiles just called him ‘rude’ and not one of the other colourful nicknames he had for Derek made him suspicious. “What do you want, Stiles?” he asked, his voice ringing total irritation with every syllable. 

Stiles took a deep breath and Derek instantly regretted asking. That was the deep breath that preceded some very long explanation of something (full of run-on sentences, to be sure) that Derek definitely wouldn’t care about.

“Look, dude, I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice. I mean, I guess I sort of have another choice because I could ask Scott and Isaac, but that would suck equally as bad and they’re at a movie so I thought I’d ask you first to get it over with. So the old lady next to us, the one that used to bake Erica and I shitty cookies, well she died today and our apartment flooded so they’re making us stay somewhere else until they can repair the damages and Erica suggested I stay with you, and while I find that about as appealing as you do, I’d really rather not stay with Scott and Isaac and I can’t stay with my dad in case my Jeep craps out, so you’re the best option I’ve got.” Stiles explained, practically gasping for breath by the time he’d finished.

“No.” Derek said on impulse. What did he care if Stiles had to stay with Scott and Isaac?

“I hate to pull this card, but you totally owe me.” Stiles insisted. 

“No.” Derek repeated. Jesus Christ, couldn’t this kid take ‘no’ for an answer?

“You do, though. I’ve saved your wolf-ass a fair few times and you’ve never paid me back.”

What kind of a question was that, of course he couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. “I pay you back every day by not ripping your throat out with my teeth.” Derek growled, though it probably wasn’t as convincing as it should have been. He was starting to get the clue that Stiles wasn’t going to let this go, and it would probably just be easier to give in.

“If you ripped my throat out, who would save your ass? Seriously, ask Erica, I’m Batman.” 

Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles already knew he’d won. “I’m not cooking for you.” He said, in way of confirming that Stiles could stay there. 

Stiles turned around and jumped in the air, his arms flailing wildly. “Dude! Thank you so much! You won’t even know I’m here, I promise.” 

Derek seriously doubted that. Stiles was the type of person who demanded to be noticed. With the addition of his werewolf senses, he was positive that he would be fully aware of Stiles presence. He would definitely one hundred percent regret this for the duration of Stiles’ stay and however long it took to get _eau de Stiles_ out of his house afterward. He hoped he could manage it before Peter stopped by for a surprise visit. 

Stiles turned and ran to his jeep, grabbing a backpack full of clothes out of the front seat, and then barreled in the front door, pushing past Derek like he wasn’t an alpha werewolf. Like he wasn’t the guy who was totally saving his ass from having to live with Scott and Isaac.

It occurred to Derek that he would probably wind up being forced into cooking for the kid, even though he’s said he wouldn’t. Fucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be between January 7th and January 9th and will probably be posted at about 9pm PST on whichever day. 
> 
> Thanks for the feedback on the first chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback on the first two chapters! <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one.

**DEREK**

Stiles got about halfway down the hall before he realized that he had no clue where he was going and he should probably wait for Derek. “So,” he began, turning around, “Guest bedroom? Couch? Where do you want me?” 

It took a huge amount of restraint for Derek to stop himself from saying _not here_ . “I guess I’ll show you to one of the guest bedrooms.” He said, finally.

He led Stiles up the stairs and toward the bedroom that was farthest away from his own. He knew it he’d still be able to hear and smell him perfectly, but something about the idea made him feel better, if only a little bit. 

He pushed the door open and looked inside. He tried to ignore the pain as he pictured it how it used to be. It had been Laura’s room. Now it looked identical to the other unoccupied rooms in the house. Peter had insisted he furnish all the rooms. Derek still had no clue why. What was he supposed to do with five guest bedrooms?

It had occurred to him once or twice that maybe Peter had wanted Derek to invite his pack to live there, which was the dumbest idea Derek had ever heard. You don’t put sexually active werewolves in a house with other werewolves. You just don’t. Especially not teen werewolves and especially not in Derek’s house. 

“You can take this one. There’s a bathroom with a shower and there are towels in that closet over there,” he pointed to the closet that used to hold Laura’s overflowing wardrobe, “Now, I’ve got work to get back to, so just try to be quiet.” 

Stiles dropped his bag onto the bed and looked up at Derek curiously. “What kind of work?” he asked.

“Boring work.” Derek answered.

“Werewolf stuff?” Stiles asked excitedly, bouncing up and down on his heels. “Anything I can help with?”

For someone who was constantly surrounded by ‘werewolf stuff’ he still got awfully excited about it. “Probably not, seeing as all of it is in Latin.” He grumbled. He’d been having a lot of trouble with the translations. He’d been learning it slowly, but he still usually had one of the pack pass the bigger things on to Lydia to translate, but she was vacationing in Hawaii for a good part of the summer, leaving Derek to translate everything himself. He’d never been good with languages so it was incredibly frustrating. 

“I can help with that.” Stiles told him.

“ _You_ can translate Latin?” Derek asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, I started learning after all the stuff with the Kanima a couple years ago. I just illegally downloaded all the Rosetta Stone Latin programs and got Lydia to help me when I’d gone through those.” Stiles explained. “Dude, I can’t believe you didn’t know that. I owe you for letting me stay here, so why not let me translate whatever you’ve got?” he suggested.

Derek felt relief flood through him. No more translating for him! And Stiles was actually weirdly excited about doing the translating for him. Better Stiles do it and enjoy it than Derek do it and wind up tearing all his hair out. Derek nodded. “Deal.”

“Cool,” Stiles said, “Just send the files to my laptop. I’ll go get it from my Jeep and get started.” 

Stiles left to go get his laptop and Derek headed back to his room. He logged on, opened his email and found Stiles in his contacts. He didn’t remember ever sending him anything or adding him to his contacts, but it saved him from asking. He attached the files he was translating, purely for archival purposes, and hit send. 

He was in a far better mood than he had been when Stiles showed up at his door. He had someone to do his translating for him and he was pretty sure it would keep Stiles quiet for a while so that Derek could focus on other things. 

He was wrong.

He was typing a reply to an email from Peter who had, since his return from the dead a couple years ago had actually been a huge help and not once overstepped the boundaries Derek set. He visited once every month or so and emailed frequently, but he hadn’t tried to interfere with or kill any of Derek’s pack. 

Derek had typed out the first few lines of the email (Yes, he was okay, so was the pack. No, he wasn’t seeing anyone. Seriously, please stop asking) when he heard Stiles start to mutter under his breath.

“Wrong.” He heard Stiles sigh. “And wrong again.” Another sigh and some furiously fast typing. “Seriously how does that translation even make sense?”

Derek grit his teeth. Why had he even sent what he had started translating?

The muttering continued, but if Derek found that he could tune it out if he focused hard enough. Later, it stopped entirely, which Derek took to mean that Stiles had reached the point where Derek had stopped translating.

The next time Derek looked at the clock, it was almost 5pm. He was so focused that he’d completely skipped lunch. It was probably best considering how much he ate for breakfast, though.

He didn’t feel like creating any dishes by cooking, so he got into his Camaro and drove to the nearest burger place. He decided he may as well buy dinner for Stiles too. The kid had been translating almost as long as he’d been at the house without taking a break to eat. Not rewarding him with a burger and some curly fries was a type of cruel Derek wouldn’t sink to. 

When he returned, he went up to Laura’s old room and walked right in. 

“Dude, it’s called knocking.” Stiles said irritably. 

Derek shrugged. “My house. And I brought you food.” He placed the bag with the bacon cheeseburger and curly fries, and one of the milkshakes he’d bought on the desk next to Stiles.

Stiles’ eyes widened at the site of the food. “Oh my god, food! Thank you.” he said happily through a mouth full of curly fries. 

**STILES**

Stiles hadn’t realized exactly how hungry he was until Derek put the bag of food down in front of him and the smell of fries and bacon reached his nose. He tended to lose track of time and forget to eat when he was really focused on something. 

Derek regarded him with a look that was somewhere between amusement and disgust. 

He made himself chew and swallow before he spoke again. “Sorry. Bad habit. I was on my own a lot after my mom died,” he explained, “I guess table manners were never high on my list of worries.” 

Derek nodded in understanding. The guy sure wasn’t big on communicating. He was all grunts, nods, and occasionally obscene hand gestures that were usually directed at Stiles. Stiles wondered what he’d sound like in bed…

Fuck. He had to stop doing that. He had a weakness for people making or bringing him food. 

One time, in the third grade, Lydia had brought the most amazing cupcakes to the class to celebrate her birthday. That was pretty much the exact moment he started pining for her. Of course, as he got older it wasn’t because of the cupcakes any more, but he was certain that they were the catalyst. 

Fucking cupcakes, man.

Stiles tried to make conversation. “So, I got a bunch of translating done. I’ll send it to you when I’m done eating.” He said.

“How much?” Derek asked, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at his laptop screen.

Stiles used his jeans to wipe the grease off of his hands and scrolled through the pages of translations he’d already done to show Derek. 

He was incredible satisfied to see Derek looking shocked and impressed. 

“How do _you_ focus long enough to get that much translating done?” Derek asked.

“Well, it helps me focus if I’m really interested in something, and this shit is awesome, but,” he reached into the bag lying at his feet, took out a prescription bottle, and shook it, “these help a lot.” He said. 

“Adderall?”

Stiles nodded. “ADHD.” He said, pointing to himself.

“Never would have guessed.” Derek smirked.

“Rude.” Stiles mumbled, crossing his arms. He uncrossed them quickly when he realized that half his burger was unfinished.

Derek left after he finished eating, giving Stile the chances to get a bit more translating done. 

Okay, maybe more than a little more translating. The next thing he knew it was past midnight and he was yawning and rubbing his eyes. 

He stripped down to his boxers and headed to bed. 

As Stiles fell asleep, he could feel himself slipping into a nightmare, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

**DEREK**

Derek woke up suddenly to the smell of fear and the sound of Stiles’ heart beating at a mile a minute in the room across the hall.

He sprang out of bed and bolted across the hall, expecting to find any number of possible threats waiting, but the only one in the room was Stiles.

He was twisted up in the sheets from tossing and turning. 

Derek tried to remember what you were supposed to do when someone was having a nightmare. Actually, he didn’t really know why he even cared. There was no threat, so he should have gone right back to bed.   
He figured he’d better wake Stiles up. He wouldn’t get any sleep until Stiles stopped smelling like fear any way.  
He shook Stiles roughly. “Stiles,” he growled, “Wake up.”

Stiles almost jumped out of his skin when he woke up. “Jesus Christ, what the hell, dude?” he asked.

“Uhh,” Derek stood over the bed awkwardly, unsure of what to do now that Stiles was awake, “You were having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, wow, thanks Captain Obvious, I got that. You’re not supposed to wake people up from nightmares.” Stiles snapped. 

“How was I supposed to know that?” Derek snapped back. “Whatever, I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait, Derek.” Stiles called after him.

Derek turned around. 

“Umm, thanks for, y’know, caring or whatever.” Stiles said.

“I thought you were being attacked.” Derek shrugged.

“Yeah, well thanks for deciding not to let me die.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Derek said, awkwardly, before going back to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, 45 minutes late updating and it's way way shorter than I wanted it to be. Way shorter.
> 
> Someone please remind me not to try to update on school nights any more. Now I've gone and neglected my math homework. (I'm actually totally fine with that because I would much rather write than do math homework)
> 
> I'll update again on Saturday, January 12th.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay I am so so so sorry that this is so late, seeing as I said that last update would be like 12 days ago, but computer problems, sickness, company, and exam week kind of got in the way.
> 
> Anyway. Here it is. Thanks for the feedback thus far <3

**STILES**

Stiles woke up to his phone buzzing beside him. He squinted at the call display. _Of course Scott is up at,_ he checked the time, _ten in the fucking morning._

He considered ignoring him and going back to sleep, but picked up the call on the last ring. “Someone had better be dying.” He groaned.

“Oh, were you sleeping? Sorry, dude.” Scott apologized. 

“It’s ten in the morning, Scott, _everyone_ is sleeping.” 

Scott ignored him. “So, Isaac said that Erica told him that you’re staying with _Derek_.” Stiles could tell he was trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Look dude, I totally would have stayed with you guys, but I would have had to crash on the couch and Derek has all these extra rooms with _super_ comfy beds.” Stiles said.

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles wasn’t even fact to face with Scott, but he could see that stupid sad puppy dog look he got on his face. Fucking hell.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you and Isaac are happy, man, but you’re like one of those ridiculously awesome double chocolate fudge brownie cheesecakes.” Stiles tried to explain.

There was a long pause on Scott’s end, so Stiles decided to elaborate.

“You know, everyone is like ‘I totally want one of those!’ but after about two minutes you regret it because you’re reminded of how totally and completely single you are.”

Scott laughed. “Okay, I guess I can see that. Anyway, Isaac’s at work so I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out.”

“Breakfast.” Stiles said. “We are going to get breakfast.”

“I already ate breakfast.” Scott told him.

“Dude, you’re a werewolf. Aren’t you kind of like Hobbits in that you always have second breakfast?”

“Now that you mention it, I’m actually a little hungry.” 

“Of course you are! I’ll meet you at Plates.” Stiles said happily. 

Plates was their favourite little hole-in-the-wall diner. Stiles and his dad had started going after his mom died and it had become a sort of safe haven for him. Of course, the fact that the food was to die for was a plus, too.  
They had one cook - everyone called him Happy - and he’d worked there since Stiles was little. He made the best pancakes in the state. Actually, they were probably the best pancakes in the world. The burgers were also delicious, but Stiles wouldn’t let his dad know how often he indulged in those. He was trying to set a good, healthy example.

Derek’s Camaro was already gone when Stiles got in his Jeep. Wow, typical of the guy to just up and leave without telling Stiles where he was going. But then, it wasn’t really Stiles’ business. It was also Derek’s house. He was free to come and go and he pleased. What did Stiles expect, a note that said, 

“ _Going to the store, be home soon._  
xoxo  
-Derek.”

Nope. Definitely not.

Scott was already seated at their usual booth when Stiles came in. He waved at Stella, the waitress on duty, and headed over to join Scott. 

As soon as Stiles sat down, Scott leaned forward to whisper dramatically, “Dude, Happy quit this morning.”  
Stiles mouth dropped open. “What?!”

Scott nodded. “Stella said he got a job at some fancy restaurant back East. He just walked in this morning, got his last paycheck, and said he was on his way to the airport. He didn’t even give any notice. He just left.”  
“Wha- How—I thought Happy was their only cook. How are they even open if he’s not here?” Stiles asked. He felt as if he’d been personally betrayed. Happy’s food had been a constant comfort to him since his mom died and now he was just gone.

“He was the only cook, but since Ava just finished cooking school and she knows the menu, they’ve got her cooking.”

Stiles pouted. He like Ava as a waitress well enough – she was a few years older than him, spunky, hilarious, and her hair that fell in soft waves just past her shoulders was a light shade of bubblegum pink, and okay, maybe Stiles had kind of had a thing for her – but he was very partial to the way Happy cooked. 

Scott rolled his eyes at his expression. “I’m sure she can make you pancakes just as well as Happy can. They’re just pancakes, dude.”

“Pancakes are an exact science, Scott.” Stiles said seriously.

Stella came over then, interrupting anything else Stiles could start to say about pancakes. She slid into the booth next to Stiles. “Did Scott tell you about Happy, hun?” she asked. 

Stiles nodded.

“They called me in this morning. Ava was supposed to be waitressing but now she’s cooking so I’m covering for her.” She said. That would explain why her hair, which was dark brown and lightly streaked with a few greys, had been pulled up into a messy ponytail instead of the usual smooth curls she had it in. “Ava will take good care of you boys, don’t worry. Joe’s hiring another cook, too, so we’re not stuck without one again. Apparently it’s someone Ava knows. Anyway, enough chit chat. I’m sure you boys are hungry. The usual?” She asked.  
They nodded in unison and she left to bring the order for Stiles pancakes and Scott’s bacon and eggs to the kitchen. 

“So,” Scott began after she left, “How’s living with Derek?” he smirked.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s only been like a day, Scott. I don’t really see him a lot. I spent most of yesterday translating some Latin stuff for him, and he was gone when I woke up this morning.” Stiles left out the parts about dinner and the nightmare. 

Scott looked a little disappointed.

“You were hoping that it’s been a living hell, weren’t you?” Stiles asked.

Scott grinned sheepishly and nodded.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Why does everyone get so much pleasure from my pain?” he wondered. “Anyway, I probably won’t see him that much today either because I work from one to nine thirty.” 

Scott cocked his head to the side, listening to something Stiles couldn’t hear. “Wrong.” He said.

“What do you mean, ‘wrong’? I think I know my work schedule, dude.” 

` **DEREK**

 _Fuck_ Derek cursed internally. His day was already on the road to sucking; walking through the door and seeing Stiles sitting there was just the icing on the fucking cake. 

He’d gotten almost no sleep after the ‘Stiles Nightmare Fiasco’, and then just as he was finally drifting off to sleep at about eight in the morning, he got a phone call from Ava, Laura’s friend’s younger sister.  
He had no clue how she even knew he could cook, never mind that he’d done two years of culinary school while he was in New York. His best guess was that Laura had stayed in touch and let it slip. Anyway, she did know, and he owed her a favour so he couldn’t say no.

He definitely didn’t need a job, and he didn’t particularly want one. He had enough on his plate already. He’d had to leave right after she called him to go pick up a pair of suitable work shoes, which explained how Stiles was here before him when he had quite obviously slept in later than Derek. He was seeing way too much of Stiles lately. Even if he wasn’t actually _seeing_ him at home, he could still smell him. He didn’t need him here too.

It wasn’t as if he hated the kid. He trusted him and he actually, though he’d never admit it, felt a little bit of begrudging affection for him. That affection was usually forgotten when he got within fifty feet of him, though, because Derek swore that Stiles lived to annoy the hell out of him. Maybe he deserved it for being a Class A prick most of the time, but it didn’t make it any less unpleasant. 

Speaking of Stiles, he as Scott were both staring at him uncertainly. Stiles gave him a hesitant wave, which he ignored. Across the room, he heard Stiles mutter, “Jesus. Don’t be such a sour wolf,” which made Derek snarl loud enough that Scott would hear and tell Stiles off. 

He heard a thud and a crack as Scott kicked Stiles under the table. Derek quickly made his way over to their table, fixing Scott with a dangerous glare. 

“Ow, dude I think you broke my leg.” Stiles groaned.

Derek grabbed Stiles by the shoulder, trying to discreetly take away some of his pain and also get him out if there. Judging by the crack that he’d heard, it was definitely broken. “Scott, go tell Ava I’m taking Stiles to the hospital then meet me by my car.” 

“Oh no, I am not getting in the back of that car with a possibly broken leg. We take my Jeep.” Stiles said.  
Derek grit his teeth. Of course he would argue when Derek was just trying to help him. On one hand, he didn’t want to leave his car in the parking lot, but on the other hand, he was not in the mood to argue with Stiles. “Fine.” Derek picked him up and –gently – threw him over his shoulder.

“Ow, watch the leg!” Stiles protested.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Dude I can’t even see you but I can _feel_ the eye roll. And seriously, put me down. I can fucking walk.”

“No you can’t.” Derek said.

“You can’t say that, I haven’t even tried!” he argued.

Derek growled. How was he even more annoying when Derek was trying to help him? “Your leg is broken, I heard the bone crack. You can’t walk. This is faster, anyway.” 

Stiles was silent until they got to his Jeep in the parking lot. “You need to put me down so I can get my keys.” He said.

Derek put him down gently, gripping Stiles forearm to steady him and keep taking away the pain without Stiles knowing.

Stiles dug in his pocket and tossed Derek the keys. Derek unlocked the door and lifted Stiles into the passenger seat. As soon as he let go of Stiles, he gasped in pain.

“You fucker!” He screamed.

Derek winced. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d have to let Stiles go to get around to the driver’s side, and the pain would get worse. He also hadn’t thought as far as what he’d do when he started driving. He couldn’t exactly hold Stiles hand without him knowing he was doing something.

Scott came out and walked over to Derek slowly, looking like a kicked puppy.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Derek told him, “Just get in.”

Scott did as he was told, and Derek got in and started the Jeep.

Stiles was glaring at him. “I don’t know whether I’m more pissed that you were taking away my pain or that you stopped. This hurts like a motherfucker. And motherfuckers hurt. A lot.” 

“Sorry.” Scott mumbled in the back seat.

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Derek asked jokingly.

Stiles looked like he was thinking, then held his hand out to Derek. Okay. Derek hadn’t been expecting that.  
He grabbed Stiles’ wrist, because it seemed less awkward than actually holding his hand, and it was more effective when taking away the pain, anyway. 

“I think we should take him to Deaton.” Scott said as they drove.

“You want to take me to a _vet_?!” Stiles asked hysterically. 

Derek thought about it for a minute. There would be fewer questions and Deaton probably wouldn’t make them pay for X-Rays. “No, that’s actually a good idea.” Derek agreed.

“I am not an animal!” Stiles was yelling now. He threw his hands up in the air, jerking his wrist out of Derek’s grasp and gasping in pain when he did so. Derek reached up and pulled his arm back down. “I am a human, unlike the two of you. I can see a real doctor!”

“A real doctor with real medical bills.” Derek pointed out. “You’re a college student, you can’t afford X-Rays. Deaton won’t make you pay.”

That shut him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry again ugh. Next update will be soon. I'm not sure exactly when, but I'm getting like two weeks off school so SOON! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at http://fourteenlaheys.tumblr.com and I usually update about my writing status there.


End file.
